I raise my face to his, looking him straight in the eye.“I don’t care,” I say, voice a little shaky at first.“What you think doesn’t matter anymore.”
Nostrils flaring, he stares at me with those unfeeling brown eyes.
I refuse to flinch.
Then, his expression softens, a shift so slight I almost miss it.He brings his face even closer and it takes every ounce of willpower to stand my ground.
“There was a time when you loved me.”He says it quietly, almost gently.The truth of his words makes me feel horribly exposed.
It’s a calculated move.A deliberate shift from rage to feigned hurt, designed to disarm me.
And it works.
It’s like he peeled back the layer of fury to touch the still-tender bruise beneath.
I swallow hard, my gaze flickering away from the unsettling softness in his eyes, but I force it back.I clench my hands into fists at my sides to stop them from shaking, locking my knees to hold my ground under his too-close, too-knowing gaze.
“I could say the same,” I counter hoarsely.“Except, I’m not so sure you ever loved me.”
He eases back a little and sighs.“I loved you my way, Mimi.”
“Your way, yes.But that wasn’t love.It was manipulation.”
“You think you’re clever, but you’re going to regret this,” he warns, his jaw clenching.“I’m more than you deserve, sweetheart.You’ll never find better.”
“I’d rather be alone,” I spit back, the words wiping the smirk right off his face.
“Oh, yeah?”His face contorts with rage.“Well then, fucking be alone!”He pivots, grabbing my suitcase and shoving it out of the room.
James’s fingers dig into my upper arm as he drags me out.I twist against his hold, a useless struggle against his iron grip, my feet stumbling to keep up.He snatches my handbag from the dining room table and shoves it against my chest.
“By all means, don’t let me keep you from the streets where you belong,” he says through gritted teeth, throwing the door open and kicking my suitcase out into the corridor.
An involuntary yelp escapes me when he pushes me out after it.“And don’t even think of not showing up Friday night.I’m not fucking around, Amy.If you make me look bad, I’ll make sure you’re left with nothing but this suitcase,” he snarls before slamming the door in my face.
I stand for a moment, staring at the closed door, his final push still vibrating through me.
It’s always just been a matter of time with us, and I knew it.A part of me knew this wasn’t forever, but I kept clinging to the hope that one day he’d surprise me by coming to his senses.
A bitter scoff escapes me.He sure did surprise me in the end.
Taking a ragged breath, I force my trembling legs to move.I grab the handle of the suitcase and pull it upright.Its wheels rumble softly as I turn my back on his apartment door for the last time.I walk toward the elevators, focusing only on putting one foot in front of the other.
The journey down to the parking lot passes in a numb haze.I pop the trunk, heave my suitcase inside, and slide behind the wheel.
Suitcase at my side, I stand in front of the dark glass doors of Maddy’s Place.My fingers, clumsy with exhaustion and shock, fumble for the keys.The lock clicks open.I push the door inward, stepping into the comforting darkness of the café.
Locking the door behind me, I drag my suitcase down the corridor to my office.The familiar space looks alien in the shadows.I flick my desk lamp on, bathing the space in a warm orange glow.With movements heavy as lead, I lay the suitcase flat near the couch and unzip it.The neatly folded clothes stare up at me, remnants of a life packed away in a blur.I pull out the simple cotton pajamas I shoved in near the top.Before changing, I walk back to the office door and turn the deadbolt—something I’ve never done before.It doesn’t make me feel safer, only more keenly aware of my vulnerability.
I change into the white and pale pink striped, long-sleeved cotton set.But the softness offers little comfort in this cold office.I fold my green sweater dress and place it carefully back in the suitcase.Then, retrieving my heavy wool coat, I lie down on the lumpy couch and pull it over me.I turn onto my side, facing the door.
And here, alone, curled under my inadequate coat, the dam breaks.
A silent, steady stream of hot tears escapes from under my closed eyelids, trailing across the bridge of my nose.
Tears for the lost home, the shattered future, the cruelties endured, the terrifying uncertainty ahead.
Tears for the kindness I received today that makes this loneliness feel even sharper.
